Something Left Unfinished
by Weasley Genetics
Summary: After the war, the last thing Hermione Granger expected to find when she went to her parent's old house, was the ghost of Fred Weasley.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hi! I hope you like this Fred/Hermione fic, I'd love it if you reviewed and even if you just kept with it. This fic is quite a special one for me, so enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, it's all J.K. Rowling's.**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 1<span>**

The blast had knocked Hermione flying. As Harry helped her pick herself up, a grief-filled, heart wrenching scream tore throughout the corridor. She saw three red heads grouped in the corner. She tasted bile in her throat when she realised something.

One of them wasn't moving.

Ron? No, thank God not Ron. Percy? No.

Fred. Oh my God, Fred.

Her breath hitched as she felt herself begin to violently shake. Hot tears spilled out of her brown eyes as she desperately clambered over the debris towards them, desperate for it not to be true.

Fred couldn't be gone. He was too strong, too happy, too full of life.

Ron turned to fling his arms her neck as he sobbed loudly, killing her inside.

For the first time, she looked at Fred's face. It was awful. His eyes were still open but unseeing, a tiny hint of a smile was still there but no mischievous glint or smirk that was ever present with the twins.

Hermione's heart broke clean in two.

* * *

><p>Hermione Granger walked slowly down the familiar road. It had been so long.<p>

She looked around at the different houses, the small, neat front gardens and the various neighbours going about their usual business. One woman even waved at her, but she could only return a small smile.

It all felt alien to her now.

She'd decided she needed to return to her childhood home to collect a few things, and to find out where in Australia her parents had gone. When she'd modified their memories, she made sure that they wouldn't sell the house, so that they would be able to return if they won the war.

She played with the cold keys in her pocket nervously, the cool metal warming subtly at her touch.

A few minutes later, she'd arrived. She stood at the front gate, gazing up at the house she thought she would never see again. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the gate that groaned loudly from neglect, and headed up the garden path.

With shaking hands, she fumbled with the keys before finally managing to unlock the door. The War had been over for a week, but she still couldn't shake off the feeling of unwariness and the expectancy of being attacked.

But nothing on Earth could have prepared her for what she would find when she entered.

The door shut behind her, the keys dropped to the floor, and so did her jaw.

"Hermione, don't freak out! Please!"

The ghost of Fred Weasley gestured wildly, but there was no danger of Hermione panicking. She couldn't even speak.

"F-F-Fred?"

He shrugged his transparent shoulders.

"Yeah,"

Hermione plonked into the closest chair, stunned. She hadn't blinked once yet.

"Why are you here?" she gasped.

"Well I thought you'd have to come here eventua-"

"No, I mean, why are you here as in on Earth, Fred? You're dead!" The pained look on his face made her instantly regret her insensitivity.

"Well considering I'm see-through, it's pretty self-explanatory isn't it?" he said harshly. Hermione winced.

"I'm sorry, I …" she trailed off when he shook his head.

"Don't be. It's true isn't it?"

"Fred,I-"

"I feel a bit pathetic really. I mean, if it wasn't for me the entire Weasley family would have survived. I mean that would had to have been some kind of record or something?"

He was joking. He was dead and he was joking.

"I think I need a glass of water," she said weakly.

"I'll get you one," he turned around and drifted through the kitchen wall. Hermione couldn't help but smile.

Three, two, one.

His head poked back through the wall.

"Oh. Sorry, I forget sometimes,"

"It's fine, I'll get it now."

She walked into the kitchen and retrieved a glass from the top cupboard. As an afterthought, she reached up and got two painkillers. A throbbing headache was settling in.

She filled the glass at the sink and threw her head back as she swallowed the pills, gulping down the cool liquid. A few drops escaped and they trailed down the length of her pale throat. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

Bracing herself on the sink, she looked back at the floating form next to her.

She couldn't get used to this.

"How are they?" he asked seriously. She looked away.

"Fine,"

"Honestly?"

She looked back at him, his eyes were pleading with her. She couldn't lie to him.

"They're not good, Fred,"

"And George?" he sounded so sad and so mournful when he said his twin's name. She didn't answer.

"Why don't you go to them?" she asked. His brow furrowed.

"I can't," he said hoarsley.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't!" he snapped.

Silence. He sighed.

"Because they will never be able to move on if I'm still here. They won't be able to carry on with their lives,"

Hermione thought that was unusually insightful for him; and very selfless. She studied him for a moment. He'd changed.

"But why come to me?"

Fred shrugged again.

"I didn't know where else to go."

* * *

><p>"So, we need to figure out why I'm here,"<p>

Fred was floating a couple of inches off the carpet, his legs crossed. He looked down at the books Hermione had placed in a semi-circle on the floor in front of her. She wet her finger to turn the aged, dry page of a book, and saw Fred looking at her mouth strangely.

Feeling self conscious, she quickly pulled the attention away from her.

"Well, from what I know, people who are ghosts tend to have chosen it,"

Fred looked scandalised.

"_What?_" he stood up abruptly.

"Well, some people want to cling to life. And it seems that it must be the reason for you too,"

Fred was outraged.

"Why the Hell would I choose _this_?" he gestured at his ghostly self, and ran his fingers through his no longer ginger hair. Hermione realised she strangely missed the colour.

He began to pace, well, more like hover back and fore. She knew that if he was solid, he would have thrown the coffee table across the room by now.

"It's _awful_! I'm stuck here, I can't touch anything, I can't eat, or sleep … do you have any idea how weird it is not to have to breathe?"

Hermione sighed.

"Okay, so it's not that then," she gave in, but she wasn't convinced. She began to gather her books and stood up, clutching the thick volumes to her chest. "I need to get back to the Burrow,"

Fred looked upset. She didn't know if it was because of the mention of his home, or because she would be leaving him alone. She decided it was both.

"Look, I'll keep researching okay?" It was what she did best, "I'll be back soon," she lifted a hand to touch his cheek, but drew it back as it simply fell through. "I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hi! Sorry, I'm going to try and speed up with the updates, I've got my other fic _In Times Of Great Need_ in progress as well, so thanks for being patient with me. Please keep with this and let me know what you think!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Hermione was struggling to face the Weasleys knowing what she knew. When she wasn't researching in Ginny's room, she kept going home to check on Fred to make sure he wasn't driving himself crazy. Because knowing him, he would do exactly that.

After the shock wore off of seeing him at her house, it began to sink in once again that he was dead. She had to forcibly push that thought out of her head every time it entered her mind so that she could focus and not be overcome with sadness.

She had to accept that she couldn't bring him back, and there was no point in trying to save him, because he was gone.

She was fairly sure that Harry realised something was up, but the Weasleys were too busy dealing with their grief to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Ron and her were even supposed to be 'together' now, whatever that meant. She did love Ron, she knew that, but it was almost like there was something holding her back. This wasn't a confusion she needed right now.

Two weeks had passed and Fred was still a ghost. Although he was now used to the idea, he was still frustrated and impatient, but Hermione always found that she was able to calm him down eventually.

One morning, he'd tried to lie down and have a nap, but after an hour of trying to sleep, he suddenly remembered he was dead and had no need for rest anymore.

Luckily, Hermione had arrived in time to distract him from getting too upset.

Desperately thinking of something to help the situation, a thought occurred to her and she clung to it to give him some sort of hope. And the more she thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense in her mind.

"There have been ghosts in the past that have just disappeared. I think it's only ever happened twice at Hogwarts so it's incredibly rare,"

"_Right_," he said impatiently, drawing out the 'i'.

"Well, that means they went somewhere," she said obviously. He raised his eyebrows.

"Wow. You really are the brightest witch of your age, aren't you?" he sneered.

That stung. Fred seemed to suddenly realise how harsh he'd been and went towards her with his arms open, but quickly lowered them again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be-,"

"Don't worry, it's fine," there was an uncomfortable silence, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to stay annoyed with him for too long, he looked genuinely upset with himself for saying that.

"What I meant by it was," she continued, "that there's this common Muggle idea that ghosts are people who died with something left unfinished … unfinished business," she explained. Fred looked confused.

"I don't think I have any of that," he bit his lip.

"But it's the only explanation really, considering you didn't choose it,"

"I guess so," he said more certainly.

It was something. And the small spark of hope she saw in his eyes for the first time made her grasp it with both hands.

"So what do you think it might be?"

He laughed.

"I don't have a bloody clue."

* * *

><p>"Harry says sorry,"<p>

Fred just blinked at her.

"What?"

"He says he's sorry," she repeated. Fred paused, frowning at her. Then the realisation hit him like a train.

"He _knows_?"

"Well, he knew something was up," she explained quickly, as he was looking pretty angry, "and he cornered me this morning and refused to let me leave until I told him what it was,"

"so you _told _him?" Fred began to panic.

"He won't tell any of the others! He promised," she prayed that he would be okay with this. Fred looked at her, still cross, but calming down slightly. She decided to tread carefully, "I also thought it was a good idea to have someone to cover for me,"

Fred continued to just look at her. She could see him chewing the inside of his cheek as he considered what she'd told him.

"What's he sorry for?"

Hermione sighed. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

"He blames himself for what happened to you,"

"What! That's stupid!" he proclaimed.

"I know, but this is Harry we're talking about," he was so bloody noble and heroic, he felt guilty for every single person's death. No matter how hard Hermione tried to explain that it was not his fault, he refused to listen.

"True," Fred nodded, "well, tell him he has nothing to be sorry for. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into and it not his fault in any way,"

"I will,"

"Good," Fred paused. His expression changed and he picked at his fingers, "Is George blaming himself?" he asked quietly.

She gave a small nod. Yes, George was blaming himself, that much was clear. She'd heard him talking in his sleep most nights as he dreamed. The word she heard the most was 'sorry'.

"Of course he is," he smiled sadly, "I know him too well. Idiot," his jaw shook slightly as he tried to cover it up with a small laugh.

If only she could take his hand, to try and give him some small comfort. He was right next to her, yet he felt miles away.

They sat in silence for a bit.

Hermione had had an idea for a little while now, and she thought it was about time she brought it up. But she knew he wouldn't react well.

"Maybe you need to say goodbye?" she suggested tentatively. His forehead crinckled.

"To who?"

"To your family; to George?"

His expression hardened.

"No,"

"Why not?"

"Hermione, we've discussed this. If I do say goodbye and it turns out that isn't what my unfinished business is, then I effectively ruin their lives because they won't be able to let me go. I will _not _put them through that,"

"But what if it is-,"

"But nothing Hermione," he tried to pick up a cushion, but his hand met nothing. His teeth gritted, floating upright, he kicked thin air in frustration.

"Damn it! I hate not being able to do anything!" he yelled.

"Fred," she said with her voice full of hurt.

He stooped and looked at her. She just looked back. Eventually, he appeared to calm down, his expression softened and he dropped his head.

"Thank God I have you," he muttered. Hermione frowned.

"What?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing really, I just think I'd be going mad if you weren't here to sort me out," he looked back at her, "you don't have to, you know,"

"Have to what?" she said again. What was he going on about?

"You don't have to keep coming. It's clearly hard for you to get away if you need Harry to cover for you. And you have much better things to do than watch me be miserable,"

Hermione was aghast.

"Fred, that's never been an option for me. Not helping you has never even crossed my mind," she couldn't believe he'd even _thought_that, "Surely you don't think I'd just leave you?"

He looked visibly relieved and shook his head.

"You're right. I was being stupid. I know you wouldn't leave me, I'm far too charming," he joked. Hermione chuckled and went closer to him; she looked up into his face to make sure he understood. So he could see it in her eyes.

"We're in this together, okay? I'm not going anywhere,"

Smiling sadly, he nodded.

"Good."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I've had a thought, maybe it's all those Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products left unfinished!" Fred had become a lot more light hearted as time went on, and not quite happy, but content.

Hermione was glad to see his old self gradually emerging, as he grew used to the fact that he was probably going to be a ghost for a while. She found she enjoyed being around him more, and actively looked forward to the times when she could visit him.

She raised her eyebrow sceptically at his cheeky grin. It was rather endearing actually, the way one end of his mouth pointed upwards slightly, showing a hint of straight, white teeth; and the little boyish creases at the at the corners of his eyes. She'd never realised.

"I highly doubt it,"

He laughed.

"I know, I know," he drifted over the sofa next to her, "but hey, the shop was important to me,"

She felt his sadness like catching a cold. She hated it. It made her want to travel the world in search of the reason for why he was being subjected to this.

Actually, no. She wanted to scour the Earth in search of a way to bring him back. To George, Ron, Ginny, Mrs Weasley.

To her.

Fred smiled again.

"You have no idea how good I felt when you first came to the shop, and you called our magic extraordinary,"

Hermione beamed at the memory, he cheeks a little pink.

"Well you have no idea how good it felt when you defended me from Malfoy the first time he called me Mudblood,"

Fred looked livid at the memory, and then scoffed.

"More like tried; damn Flint stopped us," he muttered.

"It was enough," she insisted, "I felt special, I felt … liked,"

Fred grinned sheepishly, Hermione got the distinct impression that if he were alive, he would be blushing too.

"There's something I've been wondering; how did you know this was my parents house?"

Fred thought for a second, then shrugged.

"I didn't really, I just … I had a feeling."

She looked into his eyes, barely realising that he was looking into hers. They should be brown, she thought. She missed them.

She didn't know how long they sat there with their gazes locked, but the spell was broken when he began to awkwardly rub the back of his neck and clear his throat.

She was rather sad the moment was over, and twisted a lock of hair at the nape of her neck. She wanted his eyes back.

"So you uh, better get going right?" he murmured.

She looked up. He wasn't looking at her, but was staring at the floor. An overwhelming feeling of disappointment evaded her.

"Right," she said sadly.

"See you when I see you," he mumbled, and with that, he'd flown out of the room.

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><p>Hermione visited Fred more and more often for longer periods of time, even when she had nothing new to tell him. And strangely enough, he didn't seem to mind when she had no news or ideas.<p>

They increasingly talked about themselves rather than just the Weasleys and his unfinished business.

But Hermione found she was becoming more annoyed with herself.

Why had she not spent more time with him when he was alive? He was such a _good_, caring person. She guessed she'd always known that, but never really known how much. She knew George much better now as well and she'd always thought that he was the nicer one of the two of them.

But she was wrong; Fred could be just as sweet as George.

This was when she became _really_ angry with herself. Fred was dead, what was she doing becoming close to him now, when it was only a matter of time before she would lose him all over again?

But she couldn't stay away.

* * *

><p>It was one of those times where Hermione was there for no particular reason. She was cleaning the wooden kitchen surfaces, waving her wand and muttering spells under her breath. Fred was hovering over the table top, watching her work.<p>

"Do you remember the Yule Ball?" he suddenly asked. She gave a small laugh.

"How could I not?"

"Ah yes, my little brother and his terrible jealousy," he joked, but then he said more seriously, "I'm sorry about him." Hermione shook her head.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault," she went back to her cleaning, "you went with Angelina didn't you?"

Fred chuckled.

"Yeah, I did," he paused. He looked from side to side, as if checking no on was around, and then leaned in closer to Hermione, "Want to know a secret?" he whispered comically.

"Yes please," she said, intrigued now.

"The only reason I asked her was so that no one else could," he admitted.

"What?" She didn't understand.

He didn't say anything but raised one eyebrow. It took her a moment, before it suddenly hit her.

"Oh! So George …?"

"Yup," he smirked. Hermione was shocked.

"Then why didn't _he_ ask her?"

Fred scoffed.

"_Way_ too scared. He liked her too much and wouldn't have been able to bear it if she'd rejected him; he's a big softie at heart you see,"

"Well who does Angelina like?" she asked. Fred bit his lip in thought.

"Well that's the thing. After I asked her, I got the feeling that she thought I was George and that's why she said yes," he explained. Hermione thought for a moment.

"I think I may need to get them together,"

"Please do, I think it would help him,"

"I will."

They smiled at each other for a minute, before his expression changed. It became more serious. That was becoming a habit of his lately.

"You were beautiful that night,"

Hermione was surprised, and smiled a bit wider.

"Thank you," and oh Merlin that smile; she was amazed angels didn't start singing. His now grey eyes twinkled mischievously. They had … life.

"So, who did you really want to go with?"

He stopped, and really, really thought about it. Something seemed to occur to him, but she was surprised when he appeared to hide it and simply said,

"I don't know really. I didn't think about it much."

She could see he wasn't being truthful, but before she could question him on the matter, he'd gone from the room.

She wished he would stop doing that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hi people, this is the last but one chapter! Sorry it took so long to get up but I am seriously busy. Thanks for keeping with this, reviews would be great and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Hermione hummed happily to herself as she unlocked her front door, looking forward to telling Fred the good news. Shutting it behind her, she dropped the keys in the bowl and called out to him.

He appeared, floating down the stairs, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed.

She loved it when he was happy.

"How've you been today?" she asked as she headed into the living room.

"I've been alright. How were things at home?" He said following her in. She dropped down onto the sofa, still smiling stupidly.

"Things are good,"

Fred looked at her questioningly.

"Why are you so chirpy?"

She continued to smile like an idiot. She couldn't contain herself.

"I have, _officially_, got George and Angelina together!" she cried.

Fred's face lit up, and she half expected him to clap his hands and jump around screaming like an excited school girl. He quickly remembered himself and began to grunt in a manly way.

"So, uh, yeah, how did you manage that?" he mumbled, but she could see right through his act.

"I convinced her to come and visit him, because they're friends and he needed her, and well, it just went from there!"

Fred couldn't stop himself from smiling now. Hermione was glad to see the joy and relief on his face.

"This is _so_ good. Hermione I honestly-," he stopped himself again, his eyes wide. Hermione was perplexed, what was he going to say?

"You were right," he suddenly said seriously.

"What?" She looked worriedly up at him. He looked odd. He was staring determinedly at the floor, his expression hard. He hovered into a sitting position over the coffee table now, his hands were clasped and his elbows resting on his knees. His thinking position.

"I think I need to say goodbye to him, to George. I think it's my unfinished business," he continued to stare at the carpet. Hermione's smile had vanished without a trace.

"It would make sense, you were apart when you-," Fred squirmed. They'd both begun to refrain from using the'd' word.

Fred went to take her hand, but it simply fell through. He looked mournfully at it, like he'd just experienced a great loss.

"Can you be there with me please? I - I want you to be there when it happens," he stuttered, his voice shaking.

Hermione suddenly felt very empty, she felt sick to her stomach and her heart felt hollow. She thought of him leaving her, and she wanted to cry. But she managed a small smile.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>Hermione was scared. She had no idea how she was going to go about this.<p>

George was slouched on the sofa, staring into his lap. She prayed to whatever God there was that this wasn't going to make things worse for him.

"George?" She said quietly. He looked up at her voice and gave a weak, but friendly smile all the same.

"Yeah?"

"Could you come with me to my house? I need help with something," Not a lie. He looked surprised.

"Not Ron or Harry?"

"No, I'd like you to, if that's okay?"

He looked sceptical. It was then that she realised that he hadn't really left the house since it happened. He'd only just started coming out of his bedroom because of Angelina.

"I don't know," he said shaking his head.

"Please?"

She didn't know what it was, but whatever he saw in her eyes finally caused him to give in.

"Okay," he agreed quietly.

Smiling, she took his hand as he stood up. It was warm and comforting. How Fred's would feel around hers. Shaking her head, she apparated them to outside her front door.

"Ready?" She asked as she unlocked it. Before he could ask what for, she opened the door, firmly guided him inside and let it click shut.

"Hi Georgie,"

George gasped and just stared. And Fred stared back. He gave his twin a watery smile, but hurried over to him as he fell to his knees.

"Fred? But you're – you're …"

"I know, look I need to say something to you,"

George couldn't take his eyes off his dead brother's face, and just nodded, his entire body shaking violently.

"I don't think I'm going to be here for much longer, and I need you to know," his voice caught in his throat, "I love you, and I'm going to miss you so much. But don't waste your life away or be miserable because I'm not here. Because I always will be, really," he whispered, "Please don't forget that,"

"But I want you with me! I'm nothing without you!" George interrupted.

"Don't you dare," Fred growled angrily, "George you need to let me go," Hermione saw how frustrated he was that he couldn't hold his twin, "Move on, and we can both be happy," he implored, "I'm not leaving you alone. I will _always_ be there,"

"Fred, I-," and then George began to sob.

Fred looked pleadingly at Hermione. He looked so heartbroken and helpless that she immediately rushed to George's side and began to rub smooth circles into his back. Fred crouched down, and looked up into George's tear filled eyes.

"Please, keep going. Live your life for me," he pleased.

Finally, George seemed to really understand.

"Okay, Freddie," they looked at each other for the last time, "I love you."

"I love you too,"

A faint, shimmering tear streaked down Fred's transparent, chalk white cheek as he hoarsely said the word he knew he needed to say.

"Goodbye," he whispered. George choked.

"Goodbye."

Hermione began to help him up, supporting his lanky frame as she led him out of the house.

"I'll take you home," she told him, her voice soft.

"Hermione," she turned around to face Fred. He looked terrified.

"I'll be back in a second," she was as scared as he was that he would leave when she was gone. Fred nodded but still looked panicked. She knew he didn't want to be alone.

She disapparated George back to the Burrow, laid him down on his bed, and as soon as she could, apparated home.

Please, _please_, don't let her miss him go. She quickly got into the house and called out to him.

"Fred?"

"I'm still here," he replied. Hermione was relieved but surprised. She thought he would have moved on by now.

"I don't feel any different," he said as she walked in. His face was a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"Really?"

"Well obviously, I feel a bit different emotionally; like a weight has been lifted I guess. But physically, not in the slightest. It's like there's still something missing," he was becoming steadily angrier and more frustrated. He raked his fingers through his hair. Oh God, he was starting to freak out.

"I'm sorry Fred, I was sure this would work-,"

"Then why didn't it!" he snapped.

Hermione jumped and desperately tried to think of something to say. She drew a blank.

"I – I can't think-,"

"Why? WHY am I still here!" he shouted so loudly she was amazed the room didn't tremble.

"I don't know, Fred, I don't know," Her eyes were filling up. She couldn't bear to see him like this. She felt like it was all her fault.

"I want to make it all go away for you, I want you to be alive again … this is all completely unfair!" she knew she sounded like a silly child, but she felt so hopeless she didn't even care.

Her outburst sobered Fred. His expression softened and brushed the angry tears from his eyes hastily.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he apologised gently, contrasting with the tirade he'd just had. "It's just – I thought this was it you know?"

Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes. She nodded.

"Well," he continued, shrugging his shoulders, "looks like I'm stuck here,"

"For now," she added. He chuckled.

"I love your determination, it's quite cute actually," she was thankful her face was already red from crying so he couldn't see her blush, "but I don't think so anymore," he sounded so defeated. She hated it. It wasn't the Fred she knew.

"We're going to keep trying," she insisted.

He sighed, but smiled anyway.

"Whatever you say, lovely girl," he said, winking affectionately.

Hermione nearly fainted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Here we are! The last chapter! Sorry this chapter is short, but to me it felt just right as it was, and I hope you all agree. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, who subscribed/favourited this fic, and I really hope you liked it. One final review from you would be great, just to know what you thought of it overall. Thanks again and if you fancy, have a look at my other fics. Love you all xx**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

"I thought you should know, something good has come out of yesterday," this would make him happier, surely.

Fred and Hermione were spending the gloomy day together. As the day before had been so difficult, Hermione thought it best that she stayed with him. She knew he needed her right now.

They sat together on the sofa; her knee so close to his that she could feel the tiny sparks of enticing electricity. But she didn't want their legs to touch to feel that heart stirring jolt, because she knew she would meet nothing, and feel no such thing.

"Yeah? What's that?" he replied absently. His arms were behind his head and he stared into space, tiredly.

"George is better already," he looked at her, his attention stolen, "yesterday helped him a lot," she continued.

Fred looked surprised.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he is," she leant back with him, "everything's just so … easier for him. Smiling, talking, joking; the old him is coming back,"

Fred smiled.

"Well at least it worked for him," he said contentedly, sinking back further and closing his eyes. Hermione watched him sadly.

Why couldn't he just be at peace? This incredible, _beautiful_ person did not deserve to suffer through this.

She no longer got annoyed with herself for thinking of him like that; she was past the point of caring. She had him here with her, so that's what mattered right?

No. That was selfish; he didn't want this. She couldn't keep him.

And she didn't have him really. He was gone.

* * *

><p>Hermione was particularly worried a few days later. Fred was quiet; far too quiet. She would rather him scream and shout, not this unbearable almost silence. It was as if he'd given up. That scared the Hell out of her.<p>

It was late, and Fred had barely said a word. She'd decided to stay as long as she could to keep an eye on him, even though she knew there was nothing her could do really, she was still worried.

And besides, she wanted to be around him.

She came down the stairs and entered the living room. She suddenly stopped.

Fred was floating across the room; staring at her with an odd look on his face.

"I think I know," he finally said quietly.

"You know?" she asked hopefully. So he hadn't given up! "What is it?"

He paused.

Merlin, those eyes. But what were they full of?

"It's you, Hermione."

And then she realised; they were full of longing … of love.

He floated gracefully towards her, and began to raise his hand.

Her breathing deepened as her body surged with anticipation, and utter need.

She could have sworn she actually felt his hand tenderly caress her cheek. She could have sworn she actually felt his thumb trace her cheekbone. And as her eyes closed, she swore she actually felt his lips softly brush against hers.

Every kind of beautiful shiver and wonderful flutter flew throughout her entire body and she felt her eyes well up behind her lids as she wished for more than anything in the World, that Fred could be alive in that moment.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" She whispered back, her eyes fluttering open. His pupils bore into hers, his ghostly face so close.

"For never giving up on me,"

She wanted to weep his eyes were so full of pure, naked emotion. She knew he felt this loss; this unfair, impossible want. So much wasted time.

His hand was still at her cheek. How she longed to feel that touch, to actually _feel_ it rather than just coldness. But it was enough.

"Thank _you_," she said. He looked puzzled.

"For what?"

"For coming back."

And then she looked into his eyes for what she knew would be the last time.

"I love you, Hermione Granger."

"I love you, Fred Weasley."

And he faded away into nothing.

Hermione didn't cry. But she stayed where she was, staring at the empty spot he'd just vanished from.

No, she didn't cry.

She smiled.


End file.
